chasing the quaffle and a dream
by daughter-of-october
Summary: This collection of oneshots contains my contributions to The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. {Second entry: glimpses of what never could be} # [Characters: Victoire Weasley, Lorcan Scamander] # Summary: It was all fun and games but the engagement ring at her hand shone.
1. a spiteful reunion Day 1

**_a spiteful reunion_**

**Characters**: Lily Potter, Severus Snape

**Summary**: There was no friendship left.

**Genre:** Drama

**Written for **_**The Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition**_

**Team: **Pride of Portree

**Prompts used**: Undercover Martyn – Two Door Cinema Club, Leaving, "Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia." – John Green, Looking for Alaska.

**Author's Note**: First time writing for them.

* * *

_To the basement people, to the basement, many surprises await you._

The old radio that had been forgotten by people who had long moved away played its last line as a ray of red light hit it.

The man in black withdrew his wand and turned around, his lips curved into a mirthless smile. He was not attractive but he did radiate a certain dark charm, something that might captivate minds if not hearts. His eyes held an unreadable expression as he nodded at the woman on the other side of the room who, too, held a wand. Her stance was less defensive and her face contained a broad array of emotions that reached from sadness over confusion to anger and her hand did not tremble as she pointed her want at him. Green eyes full of life and fire heavily contrasted his own eyes that seemed empty and dead.

"Lily…" he muttered, looking down for a moment.

"Snape," she nodded as she sighed. "We should have known that he would send you."

"We?" he inquired as he lifted his wand. "So let me guess … the headmaster sent you and _Potter_."

The venom and the disgust in his voice were impossible to ignore and she flinched slightly before her eyes narrowed. "Of course," she said after a moment. "But not only us … we are many more than you tonight."

"Longbottoms?" he snarled. "Of course … aurors to chase death eaters…"

She shrugged as she moved her wand. "Talking of death eaters…" she muttered. "Here we go."

He was silent for a moment as he wondered what had happened that it had come to this. He did remember days when the idea that he might face Lily – then Evans, now Potter – in a dusty, stinking cellar where he heard the rats everywhere would have been nothing but ridiculous. Those days, however, were long over and so was their friendship.

She had chosen the enemy. She was the enemy now as well.

This was the way life went and he could do nothing to change the truth – even though his speciality was lying and bending the truth until he could stand it. He still did not want to hurt her because once upon a time, a betrayal ago, she was the first one who had ever held out a hand in friendship – and he had taken it gladly, so happy that someone accepted him the way he was.

She seemed to have had the same thought because her wand was suddenly up and Stupify had been casted. "Good reflexes," she complimented as she sent another set of curses into his direction. "But then again, you had the training, didn't you?"

He looked at her unimpressed. "This is hardly the best you can do," he stated as their duel begun.

Lily was, while not as proficient at dark curses as him, a formidable opponent. Then again, it was complicated to hang out with someone who talked about dark curses the entire time for years without picking up a thing or two. And so they circled around each other, both ready to strike and both missing whenever they tried.

Sweat appeared on his forehead and for once, he was glad about his hairstyle because it would stay hidden underneath his hair. "You know that even if you and your guys win today, we will get back whatever you came for," he told her with a shrug. "So why are you risking your life here?"

"Because you are not the only one who is loyal to an idea," she replied. "So what, Severus? Worried what Voldemort will say if you cannot even win against a _mudblood_?" she spat.

The taunt backfired as his next curse hit her and sent her staggering backwards but before he could sent another spell at her, a shield charm was spoken and Remus Lupin – the only person he hated nearly as much as James Potter – pulled her away.

As she looked back at him, he was sixteen again and looked lost but then, she was pushed out of the room as a fire spell narrowly missed Remus' shoulder.

"Get going," the werewolf said. "Sirius got what we came for. We have no reason to stay."

"But…" she started as she stopped running to look at Severus who was coming after them. "Severus – just tell me … why?"

He looked at her with those cold, dark eyes before he replied. "Because the blood of the community of wizards has to be cleansed from people like you and … him," he replied and watched how the familiar mixture of pain and anger crossed her face.

_'Be my enemy',_ he thought. _'Be my enemy and hate me. It will make things so much easier for me.'_

_"Aguamenti,"_ she snarled, extinguishing the flames behind him before she glared at him. "No matter what you do to deny it, you are a half-blood. You and your friends, you call the Weasleys traitors to the so-called nobility of pure-blooded wizards … but in the end, they are noble in spirit while – and I guess that Padfoot agrees with me there – the Blacks are rotten to the core."

"Well said," he admitted as he pointed his wand at her.

For a moment, green eyes met black ones and her lower lip quivered before she turned her head and walked away from him _again_ and she did not bother to look over her shoulder because no matter what, he had still more honour left than to curse someone while his opponent was turning his or her back to him. She knew that it was wrong, leaving him there like this. She should have finished their duel at least - to make it easier for him - but she could not bring herself to turn around once more and go through with it because it was over. He had chosen his side and she had chosen hers. There was no room left to discuss anything because whatever they could have said, it would come years too late.

"Very well," he said as he turned and walked down the hallway.

For a moment, she looked after his disappearing form and shook her head. "It is sad," she stated as she turned her head. "It is really, really sad that this is what he has become."

Remus shrugged. "It is always sad when people leave the right path," he stated. "But … he made his decisions and you made yours. It's the way things go. We have to accept things we cannot change and we need the courage to change what we can."

She sighed as she followed him. "You are right, Remus," she said slowly. "And yet … I will remember the times when we were friends as a … it will be the future but it sure feels nostalgic," she added wistfully.

"Remembering broken friendships when face to face with an enemy is indeed bittersweet."

_'And imagining the future is nostalgia in any case,'_ she thought. _'Because nothing lasts forever.'_


	2. no harps or ambrosia Day 2

**_no harps or ambrosia_**

**Characters**: Fred Weasley, Hermione Granger

**Summary**: There was no glory in surviving because there were things left to clean up.

**Timeline**: an AU where Fred survived the Final Battle

**Prompts used:** Dialogue: "I can honestly say that I do not care.", Who we were, "Fear is only a verb if you let it be." - I Do, Andrea Gibson

**Lyrics**: _"Drink the poison lightly/'cause there are deeper and darker things than you/I know, 'cause I've been there too." _**- I'm Not The One, 3oh!3**

**Word count**: 2.379

* * *

Having survived a devastating battle was not as great as most people would assume because for the survivors, the hardest part just started. There were injured wizards and witches to be healed, deaths to be mourned and relatives to be contacted. And it was easily said that sometimes, living was harder than dying.

Professor McGonagall for example had taken it onto herself to contact the parents of the students, claiming that it was her duty when the other teachers tried talking her out of this as she had been hurt as well.

Hermione who had listened to the exchange of words between her former teacher and the other heads of houses who wanted to take a part of this burden onto their own shoulders just shook her head as she walked down another hallway, waving her wand to repair the damage there. It was strange. The battle had been over for nearly a day now and many had left to carry the message of Voldemort's defeat out into the world and yet, it seemed irrational to her that the terror that had reigned for such a long time had finally passed.

A small smile crossed her face as she came across the infamous PortableSwamp that had miraculously survived the entire battle and the previous reign of death eaters in the castle. Shaking her head and turning around, she saw someone unexpected leaning against the wall.

"Fred," she said with a nod as she tapped her wand against a wall, muttering a spell to send the bricks back into their places. "Didn't you volunteer for the grounds?"

He shrugged as he looked at the PortableSwamp. "Ron told me that old Flitwick left a bit here … it's still strange to see it," he said. "Anyway, shouldn't you head back to the dorms and sleep a bit? I heard that Harry did that yesterday and I guess Ron too but you haven't left at all … just for a moment when you went away with Harry and Ron…"

She averted her gaze and looked back at the wall that no longer showed traces of curses. "So many died," she said slowly. "Colin Creevey … I am not sure whether you remember him."

"The kid with the camera, right? He was in Ginny's year…" Fred shook his head as he waved his own wand. "It's the saddest thing about a war if you ask me. People who didn't even got a chance to live died. Colin … like I said, he was in Ginny's year. That makes you think a lot."

"Weren't we all too young?" she asked, bitterness sneaking into her voice. "No one of us signed up for this. We used to be children like Colin once as well."

He sighed deeply as he looked away. "Before I entered this fight, George said something about how fear is only a verb if we let it be … just … I wasn't scared for my own life. I was worried about the others," he admitted. "You are right … I mean, when that wall came down and nearly buried me, I was damn lucky that Perce had his wand ready and stopped it from killing me."

He moved his head a little so that he could look at the witch who was still repairing the hallway. She looked too old, like she had seen the fate of the entire world within a second. Her eyes were tired and for a moment, he wondered whether she had ever wished not to be a witch in the past months – then again, being a muggle might have been even more dangerous.

"It was indeed a close call for you today," she said. "Well, it was a close call for many … Lavender nearly died when Greyback attacked her … Trelawney – _Trelawney_ of all people – saved her."

"Well, so she's more than a fraud," Fred shrugged. "Anyway, you should take a break now."

"I don't need a break," she said as she turned around. "We should get this hallway done fast so that you can get back to your family. I guess that you are proud of your mother, right?"

He nodded. "I wouldn't have guessed that mum would go through with a killing curse but then … you know what people say – mums are unpredictable when her children are in danger," he said. "I mean … you once said something about muggle mums who suddenly develop the strength to lift trees to free their children," he shrugged as he waved his wand. "And I mean … Ginny…"

Hermione nodded. He did not have to say it. She had been there. She had seen how much luck Ginny had had that the curse had missed her. "Well, you don't have to worry anymore right now," she said. "Plus, we are nearly done here."

"Will you rest a little afterwards?" he asked as he tapped his wand against the frame of an empty portrait. The frame had suffered during the fights and everyone who usually lived in the portraits had left to either see more interesting scenes of the battle or to protect themselves. "I guess that neither Ron nor Harry would want you to collapse. Where are they, anyway?"

"Harry said that he would talk with Kingsley – something about the Malfoys," Hermione said as a frown appeared on her face. "Now, that the war is over, things will get messy, I guess. There are still death eater out there and so many supporters of pure-blood prejudice…"

He rolled his eyes. "Can't you just take a break, Granger?" he asked. "Seriously, I get that you are still worried – if my friend would be the Boy Who Lived, I would be worried about those things too. But right now, Harry and everyone else in this castle is relatively safe – as long as Voldemort doesn't get up but I don't think that this will happen. We still got McGonagall."

"She left to inform … to inform Colin's parents," she said softly, fists clenching by her sides. "He … he was one of us and she was our head of house. I … I think she feels responsible."

He was silent for a moment. "This was war," he said, helplessly raising his hands. "Wars rarely end without terrible sacrifices. And Colin … without wanting to glorify his death, he died the same death as a hero. He was a real Gryffindor … and … we all can be proud of him. I am a brother myself … and … if he died with the knowledge that his death might serve the purpose of making life for his brother – Dennis was his name, right? – easier and safer, I guess he died … content. Not happy but … content at least. And that's … comforting."

Her hand trembled so much that she nearly broke her wand by hitting it too hard against a half-destroyed pillar. "I feel bad," she said. "Your mother, Colin … they fought to protect. I chose the … the easy way out … making my parents forget me and leave the country … I am a coward."

"Don't judge yourself too hard," he said. "It was probably no easy choice for you either … and … I guess that I would have been too selfish to make my family forget me," he added. "Bravery and cowardice got many faces, Granger, that's what Dumbledore would say." He grabbed into his packet and took out a small box that contained candies. "That's our newest product," he said.

"Bragging, again?" she sighed as she frowned at him. "At least you got no first years to test it."

"Well, Miss Prefect, you will be surprised to hear what this can do," he said without taking offence in what she had said. "We still need a name but since we worked on … medicine when we invented your favourite product line of ours, we tried our hand in something strictly medical."

"So it won't create migraine or something?" she asked as she glanced at the gleaming sweets that were inside the box. She did not trust this kind of thing for good reasons.

"I call them Dreamless Sleep Sweets but the name is not good enough for when we start selling them," he said and for a moment, a dark expression crossed his face. "After the events of these days, I guess that it will be sold out within days. A lot of people will need draughts to sleep properly," he sighed. "You said that Won-Won's ex-girlfriend was attacked by Greyback? She will need products like these sweets for sure. You too, I guess."

She stepped away from him. "I am not sure what you mean."

"Did anyone ever tell you that you aren't a good actress, Granger?" he said. "Well, I am telling you this now. You are a terrible actress and an even worse liar. Anyway, you have nightmares."

"I don't," she protested weakly. "Why would I have nightmares? Don't be ridiculous."

"So you don't dream that your parents might hate you for what you did?" he asked, a knowing gleam in his eyes and she remembered that while Fred was certainly not a good student, he was quite skilled when it came to other people – which had made him a popular student back in the days. "Don't worry so much, yes? You can and will make it alright again. You aren't the brightest witch of your age for no reason, are you? Look, I am the last one who wants to make you feel bad or to meddle around in your life but … if you need to talk with someone, I am here."

"Why are you suddenly so nice to me? I thought…" she did not finish the sentence.

"Ron may be a pain in the arse most of the time but he is still my little brother … and you helped him to survive – since the first year, I guess," he said slowly. "And I am no gentleman … but I am also no ungrateful bastard. Bloody hell, Granger, my family doesn't only owe Harry that we are still relatively complete … we _see_ what you did in the background."

She smiled as she looked around in the repaired hallway. "Thank you," she said as she yawed. "You are right, though, I could use a break," she added.

"And I would like to see the common room again," he said. "So I escort you … just in case."

She shrugged as she pocketed her wand. "It will take a while to reconstruct the castle completely," she sighed as she looked at the destruction that had not been fixed yet. "I mean … we are progressing fairly fast but … as for now, we are only working in the areas with little to no destruction. The entire castle…" she shook her head.

"You are worrying too much," he said. "It will take time to rebuild Hogwarts. It will take time to reconstruct society and everything else. But … as for now, there is no enemy like Voldemort. I agree with those who say that some of his followers are nearly as bad as he was – Bellatrix Lestrange is the best example, I guess – but the worst of them have fallen already."

"You are right," she said as they headed upstairs. "We were … lucky," she finished even though it felt like betrayal to everyone who had not survived, to everyone who had been killed. She thought of Tonks and Lupin – and their son who would never know his parents and she wondered whether Harry felt some sort of connection to Teddy because of the similarities.

"Lucky," he agreed and they were silent as they reached the portrait of the lady they knew just too well. For a moment, she wondered whether they would get in without knowing the password but then, the portrait opened the way into the common room without a word as if the lady knew that a heavy exhaustion had consumed them now that the adrenaline of the battle and the first drive to repair everything had faded away.

"I, um, will head upstairs now," she said as she faced the stairs that led to the girls' dorms.

He nodded and so she walked upstairs. She had just checked the first two rooms whether there was an empty bed when she heard Fred cursing. She turned around and saw how the red-haired man – because he was no longer the mischievous boy he once was – struggled to get upstairs.

"You know that boys aren't allowed in the girls' dorm," she called out to him.

"Yeah, yeah," he said before he somehow managed to manipulate the curse that was on the stairs to let him upstairs regardless of his gender. "Forbidden or not, I can honestly say that I do not care," he grinned as he stood in front of her. "I had forgotten something," he added as he held out the box with the golden sweets. "I know that you are no fan of this kind of magic but, well, there is a time and place for everything – damn, now I'm seriously quoting Perce – and right now, it's not the time for nightmares. There is a long road ahead of you, ahead of everyone … and no one should start a journey without being prepared. I know what I am talking about."

She nodded in understanding. "You invented them to stop having nightmares?"

"Seeing your entire family die every night isn't easy," he said. ""I would, um, appreciate it if you wouldn't mention this part to Ron," he added. "The thing is … I have a pretty good idea of what you dream and … I wouldn't wish this kind of dream for anyone … probably not even Malfoy. Anyway, here, have some of the sweets, yes. you can share them with whoever comes to sleep here too. And … you're a Gryffindor. You will find your parents and fix things."

She smiled as she looked at the golden sweets he had given her. They were shaped like flowers and stars and other things that were generally pleasant to look at. "Thank you, Fred," she said. "For the words of encouragement and the sweets."


	3. glimpses of what never could be Day 3

**_glimpses of what never could be_**

**Characters**: Victoire Weasley, Lorcan Scamander

**Summary**: It was all fun and games but the engagement ring at her hand shone.

**Prompts used**: Chasing Rubies - Hudson Taylor, Naked, "When a war ends, what does that look like exactly?" - Sleeping, Andrea Gibson

**AN**: _Alright, neither Victoire's age nor Lorcas have been specified but Victoire was after Teddy Lupin one of the first children born into the next generation. Victoire was in the epilogue the girlfriend of Teddy who had already left Hogwarts as he was nineteen at the time. That made me guess her age at maybe sixteen or rather seventeen. Neither Lorcas nor his brother were mentioned as students or Hogwarts and as it was stated that Luna married 'considerably later' than her friends, I would guess that Lorcas is about eight years younger than Victoire – so not much romance there. So I interpreted it as a first crush of a young boy on an older (and very beautiful woman)._

* * *

Generally, Hogwarts was just as cool as his mother had promised it to be. He was a good student even though she had been surprised when he had been sorted into Gryffindor and not into Ravenclaw (His brother was a Ravenclaw though so their mum had not been too sad about this all and Gryffindor was a good house too in her book anyway.)

But no matter how amazing Hogwarts was, he could not help but wonder what would expect him after school. His parents travelled, roamed the world for more fantastical creatures they wrote about but he was not sure whether he would like this as well. And so he signed up for the trip to the ministry in the end of his second year when it was first offered to the students.

The ministry was amazing, he had to admit as much. It had been entirely rebuild after the Reign of the Death Eaters so many years ago and thus it was nothing like the old building his mother had seen during her adventures in her fourth year – a story he rather liked to hear.

Now, the halls were bright with faked sunlight everywhere. If he would not know that they were metres beneath the ground, he would have thought that he was in some muggle skyscraper – the busy people were the same in the magical and the non-magical folk anyway. But so he was walking through the seemingly endless hallways with the other students who had decided to take part in the excursion. To him, the boy of a small town, everything was so big and bright that he was reminded of the first time he had seen Hogwarts. It was the same feeling of standing in front of something so great that he could hardly wrap his head around it.

He was the last one in the group to reach the point where they would meet the ministry witch who had offered to show them around a little. But as he saw her, his eyes widened. She was plain beautiful – even though his mother had told him enough about veelas for him to recognise that the woman was part-veela – and he felt how his cheeks grew hot. She had long hair of a strange shade that was both red and silver and at the same time, neither of it. She wore a blue pullover with silver embroidery that consisted of a simple V and a phoenix and a grey skirt. It was a mature and professional outfit, something an official of the ministry should wear.

He remembered her from earlier years, then. His mother had been the last one of her circle of friends to settle down which had made him and his brother the youngest children of the group that sometimes got together – not that his mother often went to meet her old friends. Luna had never broken ties to them but as her husband had no attachment to the group that surrounded Harry Potter, it had always felt awkward for them to get together. But Lorcan had a rather good memory and so he remembered the brightness that was Victoire Weasley from then.

She brushed back a strand of hair behind her ear – a rather nervous gesture but she had never been as self-confident as her mother which had always added to her charm – and clapped twice as she approached the students. "Welcome to the ministry of magic," she said, a slight hint of French, her mother's language swinging in her voice, the language of a country she had never truly seen. "My name is Victoire Weasley and I work in the Office for the Detection and Confiscation of Counterfeit Defensive Spells and Protective Objects."

For a moment, Lorcan wondered why someone this pretty would work in such a strange department and not in another, possibly more interesting one before he remembered what his mother had said about Arthur Weasley – that he was a lot like Lorcan's parents because he always could cast powerful spells and yet believed muggle technology to be the most interesting thing in the entire world. Lorcan would love to have an equal passion for something but sadly, he did not.

A few hours and a short lesson on the basics about the ministry later, he found himself in the mess hall, sitting across from Victoire who was reading a few reports while around her, everyone was laughing. She seemed to be very serious about her job, something he rather liked.

"Um, Miss Weasley?" he asked. "How did the ministry change after the … the war?"

For a moment, she was silent before she looked at him with her shining blue eyes. "When a war ends," she started, "it has no special look … I cannot say what it looks like exactly. You don't see the war, you see what it destroyed. I have never seen the old building either, just photos. But, well … it is kind of sad, I think."

_Sad_.

That was a word his mother always used when she had to describe the war, the consequences it had for everyone. It was a word she rarely used because Luna Scamander was such a happy person, someone who lived in her own world and this was a place full of sunlight. Lorcan sometimes wondered why she never used stronger words because what she had lived through had been more than just sad. Being kidnapped, living through capture and torture was not sad. It was a terrible fate yet somehow, she never talked about those things – Uncle Harry sometimes mentioned them but Lorcan rarely saw him.

He liked talking to Victoire because she took him serious – not like other students who thought that he was just as crazy as his beast-(re)searching parents. Then again, her aunt was his mother's best and oldest friend so maybe, she was used to accepting everyone no matter how strange they seemed in the first moment.

"Sad," he repeated. "I guess that's true … many things got destroyed after all, right?"

She nodded. "After the break, you guys will be split up and visit the different departments," she said. "I believe that I do have clearance to see the old pictures of the ministry…"

"Could you show me?" he asked – partially because he really wanted to know and also because he wanted to spend time with her. Maybe it was her veela-charm that clouded his mind and his reasoning – or it was a first crush. No matter what it was, he rather liked the idea of spending time with her and getting an exclusive look into old files of the ministry. His parents and his brother were always after the next big thing, always looking for new discoveries but he rather liked the idea of preserving old things.

"Sure," she said. "And you can call me Victoire. You are Auntie Luna's son after all."

He was rather surprised that she did remember him because the last time they had both attended a large get-together had been about seven years ago when he had been just five and probably very busy pulling pranks along with his brother. "Okay," he said with a shy smile as the tips of his ears were red once more. He rose as she got up and without a look back at his friends, he followed her. Maybe this was selfishness, that he did not want to share his audience with the Princess with anyone else – not even his closest friends. He hardly knew her because it had been years but somehow, he was a selfish little bastard and thus, he could not let anyone disturb this.

He had to run as she hurried down hallways. She seemed to be an ethereal creature of reddish silver and sapphires and for a moment, he wondered whether she had ever encountered a situation where her beauty had been a disadvantage.

"Mi- Victoire," he said as she opened a door after holding her wand into the specific space in the wall. "What was your house when you were in Hogwarts?"

She grimaced. "I disgraced my family by being the first Weasley to be in a house that was not Gryffindor," she said with a playful twinkle in her eyes. "I was sorted into Ravenclaw and I had seven amazing years there … Ravenclaw was a lot about broadening one's perspective … and I guess, that happened. I would never have thought that I'd ever work in the ministry when I was younger but when I got out of school, it was the job I applied for."

He laughed because she was funny – in a slightly awkward way because she was no smooth talker either. She was … normal which was a surprise considering her family. Then again, he was a little too normal to. He was terrible with magical creatures and many other things. He could never remember differences between the beasts. He was a disappointment for his parents who had a feeling for those things – something he lacked entirely.

"So," she said as she winked at him. "You are a Gryffindor, oui? Are you happy there?"

He shrugged. "It's pretty cool, yep," he said. "Gryffindor is used to people who take long to find out what they want to do in life. Well, there are things that interest me but…"

She raised her eyebrow. "For example?"

He shrugged. "History," he said, basically admitting that he actually liked the subject most students loathes. "I really, really like it … the idea of learning what used to be so that it does not happen again … I think I never mentioned that to anyone before."

He suddenly felt very naked – not in a literal sense but he had just told her the only secret he had. He wore his uniform but suddenly, he was painfully aware of his surroundings. He heard every step they made, hurrying down another hallway. He saw every little flash of colour that flickered as they passed. Everything was so close all of a sudden, like there was only a think layer of glass between him and the entire universe. He felt naked and exposed because telling her had – while it had rolled so easily off his tongue – taken a bit of courage and he really, really did not want her to laugh because this would be so very embarrassing.

"Than, I am very honoured," she said with a friendly smile, so very serious. He breathed easier after hearing her words because no matter how brave a Gryffindor was supposed to be, it remained a fact that he had never truly talked about this. His family was so obsessed with finding new things, new creatures that it sometimes felt like betrayal to their philosophy to consider a career based on the past, a career that hardly held any chances of uncovering something new.

But he felt like he could talk with Victoire about this secret – partially because he really wanted to impress her like any other twelve year old would want to impress his far older crush as well. This felt oddly similar to the way his brother had been crushing on Alice Longbottom and he remembered his mother's strange smile as she had heard about this. but it was true that he had never met someone quite as Victoire Weasley before and for some reason or another, he really wanted to tell her all the truths he had kept hidden for so long.

"Thank you," he said as they finally reached the hall they had been headed for. Large bookshelves were everywhere and on tables that had been bent by the weight of the parchment towering on top of them Lorcan saw scrolls of parchment and boxes of photographs. For someone with a knack for history, this was a paradise on earth.

"Dreams are beautiful," she said as she stepped over to a shelf and looked up and down for a specific box. "People who insult or crush someone else's dreams are disgusting," she added as she waved her wand and sent a box flying to an empty table. During the movement, the diamond on her ring gave a discouraging glint.

He then realised that this crush of his was doomed to stay only a crush. For once, she was much older than him. Then, she was basically like an older cousin or something like that because in a time before she had become too busy, his mother had often invited her friends to come over when his father had been away. It would be naïve of him to invest further thoughts into a what-if scenario that was this unlikely to become reality but he was a dreamer at heart and entertaining rather ridiculous ideas every once in a while did not hurt – at least not when it was obvious from the very start how ridiculous he was. He also realised that this was truly a simple crush on a pretty lady and that – in years to come – he would fall in love properly, with someone who would love him back.

"Is beauty an important concept for you?" he asked as he sat down.

"Being part-veela and everything?" she shrugged. "Not really … I perceive beauty in another way than most people. Veela – or at least those I know – see beauty not only on the outside. As we are often reduced to our own physical beauty, we search for beauty in other things … like knowledge – or those funny things muggle construct to aide themselves in their every day life," she added. "It is sometimes rather frustrating when someone only sees you as an object … I mean, I was in Ravenclaw – and the Sorting Hat is blind to physical beauty. In a way, I wish people could be more like the Hat instead of doubting one's competence just because they are pretty."

He nodded slowly. "So, there are many things that aggravate you?" he asked.

"Oh, not really," she said with a little wave as she opened the box and took out an album full of old photographs. "Many old albums got destroyed during their reign," she explained as she handed it to him. "And as far as frustrating things go … I do get frustrated with Teddy, my fiancé, at times … when he switches around his hair colour and his face during a date … he makes it look like I am going out with different persons at the same time … _stupid shape shifter._"

He smiled because she was smiling too, quite fondly at the thought of her fiancé. He was not jealous for multiple reasons. First of all, she was happy and everyone's happiness was important. Secondly, someone as pretty as her deserved someone special, someone who could put up with her and mirror her positive aspects. And thirdly, she was too old for him anyway.

It still stung a little but he could smile. Victoire would be his first – albeit rather short – crush, not because she was beautiful but because she was kind and friendly with a hint of mischievousness in her eyes. Also, they could be friends. In a few years, the age gap of eight years would mean nothing anymore and everything would be fine.


End file.
